I check the time, 11:32 PM. I was supposed to go to sleep after three “last episodes" ago since I have a meeting with my boss tomorrow and can’t afford to wake up late. 

 I finally get up off the couch and start getting ready for bed. I brush my teeth, brush my hair, check the locks on the doors. All that's left is to say good night to Albert.

 Albert is exactly where I expected him to be, in front of the patio door, his tail and ears tucked while his eyes watch the empty back yard like a camera.

 I reach out to pet him, but he startles back. 

 “Calm down buddy, it’s me. What’s got you all spooked?”

 I scan the backyard, not seeing anything but the dark empty lawn.

 There’s nothing there, he probably just needs to use the bathroom.

 “Why don’t you use the buttons, tell me what's wrong.” I gesture to the buttons on the ground.

 I bought Albert a set of buttons that have a word associated and read aloud when they're pressed. There are buttons for walk, bathroom, play, outside, mom, food, now, and a few more.

 Albert hesitantly walks over, not wanting to abandon his post. He stands in front of them for a moment thinking before placing his paw on a button.

 Outside. The robotic button announces.

 Weird, he never uses that one. If he wants to go outside, he picks “walk” or “bathroom”.

 “You wanna go outside?” It’s late, but a few minutes of cold fresh air could be nice before bed.

 “Sure, let’s go.”

 I walk towards the glass sliding door, reaching for the handle. A loud bark startles me.  Albert is an old dog and he hardly ever barks. Instead he relies on the buttons.

 “I get it, I get it. You're too energetic for your age. Watch, I'm opening it right now.”

 I unlock the door, and slide it open. He firmly stands in place, but his ears and tail are tucked and he explodes into deafening barks, each one sounds like it's using all the air in his lungs. 

 It freaks me out. I quickly shut the door and lock it and put a stick behind the door for extra measure.

 Albert stops barking but he’s growling weakly.

 There has to be something out there. He never acts like this. I flip on the patio light.

 Nothing. No light.

 I flick the switch a few more times.

 Still dark.

 Damn. The bulbs dead. I don’t use the patio lights much, how’s it’s burned out?

 I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight and try to wave the beam through the glass. But the light is too weak to see anything more than a few feet.

 Should I call the cops? But what would I say? “My dogs barking at nothing.” I should get some sleep, I don’t have time for this. 

 “Ok buddy, maybe you just saw a squirrel or something, you can sleep in my room tonight if that calms you down, and maybe calm me down too.” 

 I try guiding him by lightly dragging his collar but he doesn't move, he just stares into the empty nothingness outside. I try yanking harder, but it feels like I'm trying to pull a statue.
 
 “Come on Albert-” I huff, “I’ll give you a treat if you come.” I'm practically choking him but he still won’t budge.

 I defeatedly let go. “Fine, be that way. You can stay out here.” 

 I walk away, expecting to hear his paws scrabble to follow me. But no, when I glance back, he’s still there, in the same spot, watching.

 I crawl into bed and close my eyes and try to relax.

 Outside. 

 The sound of the button is muffled through the wall. I roll over and try to ignore it.

 Outside.

 Outside. 

 Does Albert know what the button means? Did I teach him correctly?

 Outside. Outside. Outside.

 He’s starting to piss me off, I just want to sleep.

 Outside. Now. Outside. Now.

 I push myself out of bed to see what's going on.

 I walk back into the dining room.  Albert is still in his spot now focused more than ever, his growling vibrates the air.

 I stare into the yard, for a moment, the clouds part, moon lights beams down to reveal… nothing.

 “That's it Albert, you're going on mute. Sorry buddy.”

 I remove the batteries from the ‘outside’ and ‘now’ buttons.

 I scrutinize the rest. Just in case, I thought and pulled out all the batteries for the rest of the buttons.

 “I promise I'll put them back after we figure out what's got you jumpy, for now just try to get some rest.”

 I march back to bed, finally at ease. My eyes get heavy and I start to drift to sleep.

 Outside. Now. 

 The buttons again.…

I imagined it, I tell myself. But I doubt that the moment I think it. I pull the blankets over my head, every muscle tense, always one moment away from calling the police.

 OUTSIDE.  NOW. 

 This time I know I wasn't imagining it, and it’s much louder. I grab my phone and dial 911.

 The call rings, and rings and rings endlessly. My grip tightens around the phone.

 COME. OUTSIDE. NOW.

 …’Come’ isn't one of the buttons, I think to myself, and I'm too scared to move, or to even cry.

 I check the time, 11:32 PM. I was supposed to go to sleep after three “last episodes" ago since I have a meeting with my boss tomorrow and can’t afford to wake up late. 

 I finally get up off the couch and start getting ready for bed. I brush my teeth, brush my hair, check the locks on the doors. All that's left is to say good night to Albert.

 Albert is exactly where I expected him to be, in front of the patio door, his tail and ears tucked while his eyes watch the empty back yard like a camera.

 I reach out to pet him, but he startles back. 

 “Calm down buddy, it’s me. What’s got you all spooked?”

 I scan the backyard, not seeing anything but the dark empty lawn.

 There’s nothing there, he probably just needs to use the bathroom.

 “Why don’t you use the buttons, tell me what's wrong.” I gesture to the buttons on the ground.

 I bought Albert a set of buttons that have a word associated and read aloud when they're pressed. There are buttons for walk, bathroom, play, outside, mom, food, now, and a few more.

 Albert hesitantly walks over, not wanting to abandon his post. He stands in front of them for a moment thinking before placing his paw on a button.

 Outside. The robotic button announces.

 Weird, he never uses that one. If he wants to go outside, he picks “walk” or “bathroom”.

 “You wanna go outside?” It’s late, but a few minutes of cold fresh air could be nice before bed.

 “Sure, let’s go.”

 I walk towards the glass sliding door, reaching for the handle. A loud bark startles me.  Albert is an old dog and he hardly ever barks. Instead he relies on the buttons.

 “I get it, I get it. You're too energetic for your age. Watch, I'm opening it right now.”

 I unlock the door, and slide it open. He firmly stands in place, but his ears and tail are tucked and he explodes into deafening barks, each one sounds like it's using all the air in his lungs. 

 It freaks me out. I quickly shut the door and lock it and put a stick behind the door for extra measure.

 Albert stops barking but he’s growling weakly.

 There has to be something out there. He never acts like this. I flip on the patio light.

 Nothing. No light.

 I flick the switch a few more times.

 Still dark.

 Damn. The bulbs dead. I don’t use the patio lights much, how’s it’s burned out?

 I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight and try to wave the beam through the glass. But the light is too weak to see anything more than a few feet.

 Should I call the cops? But what would I say? “My dogs barking at nothing.” I should get some sleep, I don’t have time for this. 

 “Ok buddy, maybe you just saw a squirrel or something, you can sleep in my room tonight if that calms you down, and maybe calm me down too.” 

 I try guiding him by lightly dragging his collar but he doesn't move, he just stares into the empty nothingness outside. I try yanking harder, but it feels like I'm trying to pull a statue.
 
 “Come on Albert-” I huff, “I’ll give you a treat if you come.” I'm practically choking him but he still won’t budge.

 I defeatedly let go. “Fine, be that way. You can stay out here.” 

 I walk away, expecting to hear his paws scrabble to follow me. But no, when I glance back, he’s still there, in the same spot, watching.

 I crawl into bed and close my eyes and try to relax.

 Outside. 

 The sound of the button is muffled through the wall. I roll over and try to ignore it.

 Outside.

 Outside. 

 Does Albert know what the button means? Did I teach him correctly?

 Outside. Outside. Outside.

 He’s starting to piss me off, I just want to sleep.

 Outside. Now. Outside. Now.

 I push myself out of bed to see what's going on.

 I walk back into the dining room.  Albert is still in his spot now focused more than ever, his growling vibrates the air.

 I stare into the yard, for a moment, the clouds part, moon lights beams down to reveal… nothing.

 “That's it Albert, you're going on mute. Sorry buddy.”

 I remove the batteries from the ‘outside’ and ‘now’ buttons.

 I scrutinize the rest. Just in case, I thought and pulled out all the batteries for the rest of the buttons.

 “I promise I'll put them back after we figure out what's got you jumpy, for now just try to get some rest.”

 I march back to bed, finally at ease. My eyes get heavy and I start to drift to sleep.

 Outside. Now. 

 The buttons again.…

I imagined it, I tell myself. But I doubt that the moment I think it. I pull the blankets over my head, every muscle tense, always one moment away from calling the police.

 OUTSIDE.  NOW. 

 This time I know I wasn't imagining it. It’s much louder, but the voice is still monotone. I grab my phone and dial 911.

 The call rings, and rings and rings endlessly. My grip tightens around the phone.

 COME. OUTSIDE. NOW.

’Come’ isn't one of the buttons. My fingers are to shaky to keep typing but I want someone to tell me I'm crazy or give me an answer to what it is or what I should do?

 I check the time, 11:32 PM. I was supposed to go to sleep after three “last episodes" ago since I have a meeting with my boss tomorrow and can’t afford to wake up late. 

 I finally get up off the couch and start getting ready for bed. I brush my teeth, brush my hair, check the locks on the doors. All that's left is to say good night to Albert.

 Albert is exactly where I expected him to be, in front of the patio door, his tail and ears tucked while his eyes watch the empty back yard like a camera.

 I reach out to pet him, but he startles back. 

 “Calm down buddy, it’s me. What’s got you all spooked?”

 I scan the backyard, not seeing anything but the dark empty lawn.

 There’s nothing there, he probably just needs to use the bathroom.

 “Why don’t you use the buttons, tell me what's wrong.” I gesture to the buttons on the ground.

 I bought Albert a set of buttons that have a word associated and read aloud when they're pressed. There are buttons for walk, bathroom, play, outside, mom, food, now, and a few more.

 Albert hesitantly walks over, not wanting to abandon his post. He stands in front of them for a moment thinking before placing his paw on a button.

 Outside. The robotic button announces.

 Weird, he never uses that one. If he wants to go outside, he picks “walk” or “bathroom”.

 “You wanna go outside?” It’s late, but a few minutes of cold fresh air could be nice before bed.

 “Sure, let’s go.”

 I walk towards the glass sliding door, reaching for the handle. A loud bark startles me.  Albert is an old dog and he hardly ever barks. Instead he relies on the buttons.

 “I get it, I get it. You're too energetic for your age. Watch, I'm opening it right now.”

 I unlock the door, and slide it open. He firmly stands in place, but his ears and tail are tucked and he explodes into deafening barks, each one sounds like it's using all the air in his lungs. 

 It freaks me out. I quickly shut the door and lock it and put a stick behind the door for extra measure.

 Albert stops barking but he’s growling weakly.

 There has to be something out there. He never acts like this. I flip on the patio light.

 Nothing. No light.

 I flick the switch a few more times.

 Still dark.

 Damn. The bulbs dead. I don’t use the patio lights much, how’s it’s burned out?

 I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight and try to wave the beam through the glass. But the light is too weak to see anything more than a few feet.

 Should I call the cops? But what would I say? “My dogs barking at nothing.” I should get some sleep, I don’t have time for this. 

 “Ok buddy, maybe you just saw a squirrel or something, you can sleep in my room tonight if that calms you down, and maybe calm me down too.” 

 I try guiding him by lightly dragging his collar but he doesn't move, he just stares into the empty nothingness outside. I try yanking harder, but it feels like I'm trying to pull a statue.
 
 “Come on Albert-” I huff, “I’ll give you a treat if you come.” I'm practically choking him but he still won’t budge.

 I defeatedly let go. “Fine, be that way. You can stay out here.” 

 I walk away, expecting to hear his paws scrabble to follow me. But no, when I glance back, he’s still there, in the same spot, watching.

 I crawl into bed and close my eyes and try to relax.

 Outside. 

 The sound of the button is muffled through the wall. I roll over and try to ignore it.

 Outside.

 Outside. 

 Does Albert know what the button means? Did I teach him correctly?

 Outside. Outside. Outside.

 He’s starting to piss me off, I just want to sleep.

 Outside. Now. Outside. Now.

 I push myself out of bed to see what's going on.

 I walk back into the dining room.  Albert is still in his spot now focused more than ever, his growling vibrates the air.

 I stare into the yard, for a moment, the clouds part, moon lights beams down to reveal… nothing.

 “That's it Albert, you're going on mute. Sorry buddy.”

 I remove the batteries from the ‘outside’ and ‘now’ buttons.

 I scrutinize the rest. Just in case, I thought and pulled out all the batteries for the rest of the buttons.

 “I promise I'll put them back after we figure out what's got you jumpy, for now just try to get some rest.”

 I march back to bed, finally at ease. My eyes get heavy and I start to drift to sleep.

 Outside. Now. 

 The buttons again.…

I imagined it, I tell myself. But I doubt that the moment I think it. I pull the blankets over my head, every muscle tense, always one moment away from calling the police.

 OUTSIDE.  NOW. 

 This time I know I wasn't imagining it, and it’s much louder. I grab my phone and dial 911.

 The call rings, and rings and rings endlessly. My grip tightens around the phone.

 COME. OUTSIDE. NOW.

 …’Come’ isn't one of the buttons, I think to myself, and I'm too scared to move, or to even cry.

The label says there should be thirty— but the vial is already half empty.